


imperfect (but she tries)

by bugabee (assassinactual)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, F/F, Gen, Post-Episode: s03 Miracle Queen (The Battle of the Miraculous Part 2), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassinactual/pseuds/bugabee
Summary: Hitting a new low point after being beaten by Ladybug again, Chloé once more tries to change for the better. But she might not be as alone as she thinks. And maybe, with the right help, this time the change will stick.
Relationships: Chloé Bourgeois/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	1. but the whole sky fell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The AU tag is for Miracle Queen ending a bit differently. The key detail is Chloé lost the Bee Miraculous during the battle somehow, but Marinette didn't recover it. (This will be addressed shortly.) Also, Fu still got amnesia, but it was from magical backlash or something because the autozapping his memories bit is dumb. Also, they might be kinda vaguely aged up a little? I was honestly under the impression they were supposed to be like sixteen or something for like most of my run through the series. I don't plan to explicitly set specific ages in-story, but it will colour how I write them a bit.

Chloé is alone.

Everyone is still sheltering from her parents’ akumatized rampage and her own brief reign of terror as she wanders home through silent streets. Not that there’s anyone she’d be with anyway – she’s alienated everyone she could’ve called a friend. She’s even, finally, pushed Sabrina away. And her parents are wrapped up in each other – whether the usual fighting or one of their bursts of rekindled romance Chloé doesn’t know. (And almost believes herself when she says she doesn’t care.)

The solitude is for the best, anyways. The anger bubbling inside would just boil over and get unleashed on the first person she sees. She’s furious: at the useless Hawk Moth, for making her believe he had the solution to all her problems. (Again.) At her parents, at the incompetent heroes, at _Ladybug_.

~~At herself.~~

Chloé lets out an inarticulate scream of rage, and kicks a nearby lamppost. All she gets for it is pain, and maybe a broken toe.

“ **Fuck!** ” she screams. She smacks the post with her hand, this time careful not to hurt herself. “Fucking Ladybug.” All of this started when that little bug-bitch rejected her _again_. Then she beat Chloé, and Hawk Moth, and his dumb bird sidekick, and all the other so-called heroes with no backup except that damn cat-boy.

And _then_ , after all of that, she had the gall to _apologize_ to Chloé.

After everything Chloé did. Knowing that Chloé is able to resist akumatization, knowing that she was a willing participant in this. After Chloé lost her Miraculous, after Ladybug took the Miracle Box back, when Chloé was helpless and defeated and literally on her knees in front of Ladybug.

Then, Ladybug looked down at her with those big, sad eyes, said _sorry_ and _meant it._ Like she regretted that things happened the way they did. ~~Like she bore some of the responsibility for this and it wasn’t all on Chloé.~~

Her thoughts circle around this in a loop, fixating on the blue of Ladybug’s eyes and her hand reaching out to Chloé. She doesn’t even realize that her feet are carrying her back to the hotel until she stumbles through the door of her suite.

She throws the bolt then collapses back against the door. Like a switch being flipped, the exhaustion of the day finally catches up to her. All at once the rage burning inside her is extinguishes and the messy flood of emotions she’s been pretending she isn’t feeling overwhelms her. Her willpower and energy gone, Chloé lets herself slide down the floor. She curls up, hugging her legs.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she breathes out softly. She’s still, even now, trying not to cry. Though she isn’t really succeeding anymore. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it?”

 _Just like it usually is_ , a little voice in the back of her head seems to say. Before she can spiral too deeply into this line of thinking, she’s interrupted.

“My Queen?”

She lifts her head, and sees the little yellow kwami floating in front of her. Looking, as far as Chloé can tell, concerned. She sniffles, then asks in a small voice “Pollen?”

She does a little loop in acknowledgement, then zooms forward and alights on Chloé’s knees. Chloé holds out a hand for her, and Pollen hops onto it. Bringing her right up to her face, Chloé lets out a shaky little laugh and smiles when the kwami boops her nose. “Hi. Are you okay?”

Pollen nods, her whole body briefly floating up with the motion. When she lands, she wipes one of the tear tracks on Chloé’s cheek with her little paw. “Are you?”

“No, but –” It surprises her easily it comes out. Carelessly, as if it’s weightless. It’s – it doesn’t matter right now. Pollen is back here, with her. Even after she dismissed her, used her, treated her like she was nothing. “– I’m sorry, Pollen.” Chloé closes here eyes and leans into the kwami’s touch. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you.”

“I understand, your majesty.”

Chloé lets out a choked little sob. For a while, she just silently cuddles with the kwami. Then she asks, “Not that I don’t appreciate this, but why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Ladybug? What about the Miraculous?”

Pollen hops up into the air again, and zips off towards Chloé’s bedroom. She returns a moment later, dropping something small and silvery into Chloé’s hands. Though she knew intellectually what Pollen being present meant, seeing and holding it again is something else. Once more, Chloé has the Bee Miraculous.

“I picked it up and headed back here after you lost it, so Hawk Moth couldn’t take it in the chaos of the battle.”

“Why here?”

“Because it is yours,” Pollen says simply. There is a _weight_ to the words.

“But Ladybug – ”

“Can take it from you. But she can’t change that I have bonded with you, and you with me. You are the true bearer of the Bee Miraculous, my Queen.”

Chloé freezes, struck with awe. That Pollen has returned to her again, that she’s comforting her, that she’s confirming what Chloé hasn’t even dared to hope for. “Me?”

The kwami – _her_ kwami – nods silently.

It’s so tempting. The Miraculous is literally in her hands. She could put it on, transform, and – what? From the very first time she transformed all she’s done as a hero is screw up. At best, Ladybug would swoop in to fix whatever she broke and ask for her Miraculous back. More likely, Chloé would somehow get into a fight with her. And end up, once again, with her heroine looking down at her with that regretful expression as she takes her Miraculous. Like it’s somehow _Ladybug’s_ fault that Chloé keeps fucking up and disappointing her.

Hell, Ladybug knows where she lives and Chloé’s going to be the prime suspect in anything involving the Bee Miraculous anyway. Ladybug might just show up here at her suite in the next five minutes to demand the Miraculous back. That might be the best outcome for everyone – there won’t be any more threat to the city and the temptation to turn into Queen Bee again is gone. Well, best for everyone except Chloé, but she doesn’t deserve _best_ anymore. She doesn’t think she ever did, really.

“I can’t, Pollen.”

Her kwami hesitates, studying her. She seems reluctant, almost regretful. But after a moment she ducks her head in a little nod and smiles sadly at Chloé. “I will be here for you, my Queen.” She boops Chloé’s nose once more, and gives her one last lingering look.

Then in a flash of light disappears back into the comb.

Chloé lifts the Miraculous – once again black and yellow and gold – to her lips and presses a light kiss to it.

“I promise I’ll try to be worthy of you,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work title from She Used To Be Mine, chapter from The Stable Song.


	2. so cold, so paper-thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first part may be a little… weird.

(Wrapped in the night’s embrace, adrift on endless dark. Alone but not lonely; the emptiness is respite and not desolation. A warm and comforting kind of solitude.)

She’s falling.

Falling,

falling,

falling.

Above and below and all around, eternity is laid out before her. Dancing lights, flashing and flickering in in brilliant colours she can see and hear and taste. Stars, _so many_ stars. Shimmering and twinkling and tracing lines across an infinite sky.

(Beautiful.)

Points of light: a spark, a flare, a blazing sun,

_flash_

an end.

A trillion trillion stars pulling themselves into being out of the formless abyss. A trillion trillion suns, the warmth and light of each witnessed by a trillion beings. Flickering, fading, extinguished; sinking back into the eternal night.

 _Everything_ and **nothing** , all at once.

_flash_

A star dies, and from the embers a star is born, but _less_. The progression of entropy is inevitable and irreversible. Star by star, the light fades into the great enveloping dark.

(No longer a comfort. Cold and empty and – )

_flash_

And nothingness. No longer the simple absence of light. A hateful, hungry void. An all consuming unlight. Gnawing and devouring: all that was and is and will be swallowed and _gone_. The night itself eaten away, and her too. Becoming less and less and _less_.

And she’s falling.

(alone.)

She’s adrift on a stormy sea, she’s a single drop of rain, she’s a mote of dust on a sunbeam.

(And she’s falling.)

And ~~she’s~~ nothing at all.

Chloé awakens with a start.

Sitting upright, clawing helplessly at her chest, gasping for breath but she can’t – she can’t –

Untangling herself from the covers, she scrambles to the closet. Fumbling for a handle, then throwing a drawer open. Digging frantically, tossing aside socks until her fingers close around a small wooden jewelry box.

She stumbles back, sagging against the wall and sliding limply down to the floor. With frantic, shaking hands, she claws the box open and haphazardly shoves the comb into her hair. There’s a flare of light, and her throat no longer feels like it’s closing. She gulps down a breath, and lets out a violent, sobbing exhale. She’s faintly aware of Pollen in front of her, of her kwami talking. But she can’t focus, no words want to come. Her throat constricting, her chest is being crushed, and she still feels so cold.

(Cold _cold **cold**_. A ravenous void, a malevolent hunger, the scream of a dying universe – )

“My Queen!” The words still seem distant and muffled. Through her tears, Pollen is an indistinct blob of warm light in the dark. “Chloé? Focus on me.” She sniffles and clumsily rubs the tears from her eyes. Once Pollen can see she has Chloé’s attention, she floats forward and rubs against her face. The warmth flares and flows into her. Comforting, relaxing, _safe_. It washes over her in waves. Chloé matches her breathing to it. In (slowly, slowly) and (slowly, slowly) out, deep, even breaths.

Time passes in the slow and steady pulse of golden light. It passes in matched rhythm of her breaths and in the drying of her tears. It passes, and so too does the feeling of a great demonic hand grasping and crushing her and dragging her down into the endless abyss. Time passes and leaves only the wisps of an awful, vivid dream clinging to her.

Chloé is alone, but now Pollen is with her.

“God, I’m such a fuckup.” She lets out a derisive, self-deprecating scoff, but it turns into a cough. For a moment she struggles to catch her breath again. In, out. ~~She’s fine.~~ She squeezes her eyes shut, and bangs her head against the wall behind her. “I didn’t even make it twelve hours this time. One stupid nightmare and I’m back to using your powers again. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic to rely on others, Chloé.” It’s probably the sharpest Pollen has ever spoken to her. But the kwami’s expression quickly softens, and she floats back to Chloé’s side. “Especially not your bonded kwami. And that wasn’t just any nightmare.” Though she can’t see her, Chloé can sense – whether physically or from whatever magical bond they share – that Pollen has more to say and is considering her next words carefully. “I will always be on your side, my queen. But you can’t go on like this. I may not have Nooroo’s abilities, but I understand humans well enough. It’s natural to rely on others. Admitting that you are even stronger together doesn’t make you weak.”

Chloé laughs bitterly. “And who would I rely on? M – Audrey has never really cared about me. Daddy does, but he doesn’t know how to actually be a parent. Sabrina and Adrien have finally realized they’re better off without me. Even Marinette –” She cuts herself off, bites her lip before the thought even fully forms. “I don’t have anyone else, Pollen.”

~~Unbidden, the image of Ladybug reaching out to her comes to Chloé’s mind.~~

“Do you really think your friends would reject you, if you reached out to them? Would Marinette, if you explained things to her?” Pollen flies up to look Chloé in the eye. She looks away, maybe even blushing a little at Pollen’s oblique reference to something Chloé herself has never even talked about.

There is a part of her – a part she _knows_ is irrational – that can’t help but imagine just that. Adrien telling her she’ll never be exceptional, or Marinette laughing right in her face. ~~It’s not like she wouldn’t deserve it.~~ Even though logically neither of them would do that – “I’m scared,” she admits. “Not of that, really, but…” She trails off with a shrug.

“Of making yourself vulnerable,” Pollen says softly. “Of opening up to them.”

Just imagining saying any of this to Sabrina, or really opening up to Adrien, or telling Marinette _things_ has her heart racing and her throat feeling like it wants to close up again. “Yeah.”

“Will you try, at least?”

In, (slowly, slowly) out. (slowly, slowly) She’s – not fine. But she can do it.

“Yeah.” Remembering something Pollen mentioned and eager to change the subject, Chloe asks “What did you mean _that wasn’t just any nightmare_?”

Pollen turns pensive, drifting backwards to alight on the edge of the drawer Chloé took her Miraculous from. “There was a reason Ladybug warned you against attempting to use all of the Miraculous.”

“Because she didn’t want to fight a super bitch with a dozen different powers?”

“Because she didn’t want you to – hurt yourself.” Pollen speaks gravely, and a little reproachfully. Chloé doesn’t miss the significance of the pause.

“She didn’t want me to get killed by my own stupidity.”

Pollen frowns, but ducks in a little nod. “Very few humans are able to use even two Miraculous together. Even just calling all the kwamis took quite a lot of strength and willpower. And you’re lucky that’s all you managed to do. Your nightmare was your mind trying to reconcile the greater power you briefly touched with your human experiences.” Pollen takes flight, waving for Chloé to follow. She rises, stretching a stiffness out of her joints that she didn’t notice before. “They will pass, as will the physical effects.” She tugs on Chloé’s hand, letting out a little more of that warm golden light. “But you need to rest, my queen.”

“I’m not sure I – ” Chloé’s protest is cut off by a sudden yawn. “Ugh, fine.”

Pollen giggles a little. “Come on, I can help you heal faster while you sleep.”

Once Chloé is in bed but not quite asleep, she decides to just do it before she loses her nerve.

She’s a few words into a text to Sabrina when she thinks better of it, deletes the message, and switches to the email app.

(Sabrina, like most Parisians these days, leaves her phone on at night in case of an Akuma alert. Chloé knows she’d be notified of a text right away, but won’t check her email until morning. It’s courtesy, not cowardice, Chloé tells herself.)

She hesitates only a moment before starting to type; knowing Sabrina won’t see it for a few hours at least makes it feel less _real_ somehow.

_Hey. I know we haven’t really talked in a while, and I know that’s my fault. I’m sorry. For a lot of things. If you want me to fuck off, just tell and I won’t bother you. But I’d really like to talk properly. If that’s okay, call me or come over whenever you want._

She stares at it, then impulsively jabs the send button before she can overthink it or talk herself out of it. Once it’s sent, she shuts the phone off. Then she lays down, Pollen snuggles beside her, and Chloé is asleep within seconds.

When Chloé wakes the next morning, she is tired. But tired as if she had stayed up a little late studying. Not like an infinite magical power had tried to eat her soul. The memory of the nightmare is still there. But it’s like any other dream: indistinct, abstract. She can recall the terror and helplessness, but not truly connect with what it felt like at the time.

She files this away, and goes about her routine.

Though not quite exactly the same as usual. She picks out an outfit that looks just as good on her, but is a slight departure from her normal style. She thanks her butler for breakfast, and remembers his actual name. (After Pollen gives her a couple pokes from her hiding spot in Chloé’s pocket.) She checks her phone about every three minutes, but there still isn’t a reply from Sabrina when she’s almost ready to head out.

Checking herself over in the mirror one last time, Chloé reaches for the bee comb in her hair and freezes.

“My queen?” Pollen asks, sensing Chloé’s indecision and emerging from her hiding place in Chloé’s purse.

“What if someone notices it?” A legitimate concern, though not the one at the forefront of her mind.

“The magic conceals it from notice while inactive, even from other Miraculous bearers.”

Chloé shakes her head. It’s too tempting, too _easy_. Impulse control has never been her strong suit, and with that power _right there_ …

Pollen seems to almost look right through her for a moment. Then she nods, looking almost resigned. “Keep it with you at least, please? The protections are stronger if you’re carrying it.” She reaches up to take the comb out once more. As she touches, Pollen speaks up again. “And Chloé? You are worthy of this.”

Chloé smiles at Pollen, then her kwami zips back into the comb as she pulls it out of her hair. Chloé stuffs it into her pocket. As she heads out the door, she resolves to do her best to prove Pollen right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: egregious formatting, liberal use of [strike] tag. Title from Crystals by Of Monsters and Men.


End file.
